


A Reversal in Blue

by aba_daba_do



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Mystic Amulet, Reverse Falls AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aba_daba_do/pseuds/aba_daba_do
Summary: The Gleeful Twins find an amulet in the woods.Back by popular demand? I hadn't looked at this fic since 2018, and I wasn't pleased with the direction it was headed. So I took it down so I wouldn't feel committed to it and could return with fresh eyes later. Well its later, and for now I think it should remain a one-shot.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	A Reversal in Blue

The rain pattered on the windows and made the old house smell like rotting wood. Mason drummed his fingers against his knee in time with the rain. It had been a slow day. Tourists rarely came around when there was poor weather. And then with all the news about girls mysteriously getting attacked by a strange man in a black hoodie, everyone decided it was best to keep in doors. And Mason didn’t mind the day off at all. He leaned back on the couch, resting the blades of his shoulders into the soft fabric and breathed in the murky smell of rain. 

Mabel mushed her nose against the pig’s, lifting him onto the couch with her, her fingers pressing into the soft fat of his body. “Who’s a good boy? It’s you.” She scratched her manicured nails across his ears and on his head. “Oh Waddles, I’d burn this whole pitiful world down for you. You seem to be the only one who understands me, in comparison to those other animals.” 

“I’m right here, Mabel. I can hear everything you’re saying.” Mason said from the opposite side of the couch, lounging with his head tilted off the edge. His cape was spread out over the couch’s arm and onto the floor, black velvet spilling like ink onto the floor. They had to wear the costumes almost constantly. It was part of the illusion; real magicians and sorcerers would never wear commoners' clothes. It was part of their grandur, their sense of other-worldliness. And it was itchy, so very itchy. 

“You were supposed to,” Mabel said in a sing-song voice. She rolled onto her back, her shoulder blades knocking into Mason’s forearm, and cuddling her pet pig. Waddles seemed to be the only thing she was even capable of loving. Their electric blue shirts were stark against the dreary sheen that echoed through the windows. The Gleeful twins both huffed out a sigh, Mabel’s wistful and Mason’s agitated. 

“Why did Great Uncle Stan even call us into his study?” he asked. 

“Why would I know? I’m not up in his weird old man biz.” 

The door creaked open, Stan’s feet pounding against the floor. He grumbled and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, and tucked his 8-ball cane under his arm. Stan insisted on the eclectic outfits, apparently the bright blue and magician-esque clothes were all a part of the show. He glanced at Mabel out of the corner of his eye. “No pigs on the couch.” 

Mabel sneered at Mason, “You heard him, brother. Get off the couch.” 

“Why you little bi-“ he raised his fist in the air when the long black base of Stan’s 8-ball cane bashed his wrist away. 

“That’s enough,” Stan snapped. Mason rubbed as his wrist, seeing where his skin yellowed and would certainly be yet another bruise in the next few hours. Stan sauntered back to his desk and leaned back in the chair. He rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Listen, the reason I called you little brats in here is because our sales are going down. These tourists are dumb, but not dumb enough to watch the same fake magic show over and over again. We need to make it more appealing so the idiots come back.”

Mason grinned, “Appealing, huh? Guess we’ll have to fire Mabel.” 

“Piss off, Dipshit!” She pried a switchblade out from… well Mason wasn’t even sure where, her costume didn’t have pockets. But she pointed it up towards his throat. 

He cracked his cane against the desk, the sound echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” With a grimace Mabel tucked her switchblade away. “You two have one job and that’s to go out and find a new act! Something big and exciting or it’s out onto the street with both of you! I don’t allow freeloaders into my home.” 

The twins shrunk back into the couch. Mason cleared his throat, “And how do you expect us to do that? What are you even looking for?” 

“Hell if I know. But you kids had best come up with something, or else the Tent of Telepathy will fail. Now get out.” 

Mabel and Mason looked at each other, grumbled, and left the room, followed only by Waddles’ happy trot. 

Mabel’s heels clicked against the old hardwood floors. She flipped her hair over her shoulders. “This is just brilliant. Why can’t that stupid old man come up with his own ideas, huh? It’s not like we asked for Mom and Dad to ship us out here.”

Mason paused, “Well, we aren’t completely alone.” He reached behind his cape, and pulled out an old red leather bound tome, its pages brown and crumpled with age. He held it up for her to see, the golden, 6 fingered hand glinting on its cover and the ominous stare of the number 2. 

Mabel laughed with a high pitched bravado, clutching to her stomach in glee. She nearly doubled over with laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That book is just filled with bedtime stories and fairytales for little babies. I can’t believe you actually think its real. But I guess one of us has to be the dumb twin.” She wiped a tear out from under her black makeup-rimmed eyes before it could even touch her cheek. 

“I’m serious,” Mason grumbled. “This book contains ancient necromantic powers beyond our comprehension. When we were digging the foundation for the Tent, I found it buried underneath. Like whoever wrote it wanted it hide it forever. If we can access these powers, we don’t have to keep up with the performances anymore. Imagine what we could be capable of: levitation, blood rain, demon summonings. We can rule this backwoods town and eventually the universe.” 

“You are a complete idiot.” 

He huffed and crossed his arms. “Listen, I don’t care if you’re too shallow to believe it. But we can at least get some ideas from it, right? Just like Stan says, tourists will believe anything if it sounds crazy enough.” 

Mabel tapped a finger on her lips. “I suppose you aren’t completely useless after all, brother. Alright, fine. If we can find something in this book that will save our show, we can hunt for it. But if it’s all fake, I get to cut you in half, live on stage.” 

“And if I’m right, and all of this stuff is real, I get to keep whatever magic item we find.” 

She held out her hand, a red lipped grin spreading across her face. “Deal.” 

He took it, mouth peeling into the same grin. “Deal.” 

\------

Mason’s shovel broke through the soft, wet earth like the peeling skin on someone’s lips in cold weather. The rain trickled down over him, soaking his clothes to and making them clutch to his skin. His cape whipped and cracked in the turmoil of the wind. Mabel groaned and adjusted her grip on her umbrella. “Are you sure this dumb mystic amulet is even out here?” 

“Positive.” 

The amulet seemed like the best place to start. Apparently it had levitation and mind reading powers, the perfect thing for a stage performance. So what if the page had warnings about the amulet corrupting your soul and turning your hair white? It’s not like he was going to use it all the time. Just for shows and occasional revenge plots. 

Mason sucked in a deep breath. The rain poured down his hair and onto his face, covering up most of the Big Dipper birthmark on his forehead. He honestly hated it, and used to cover it up before their parents dumped them in Gravity Falls and never came back. Apparently they thought the twins were evil or something. But when Great Uncle Stan saw his birthmark, he forced Mason to use it as a marketing tool. That it made him look mystical or at least weird enough to be considered an oddity. 

He leaned on the shovel, mud caked to the soles of his shoes. He had already made a decent sized hole, but so far had found nothing. “Are you just gonna stand there? Or are you gonna help me?” 

She stared at her manicured nails, nearly filed to a point. “And get dirty? As if. I take pride in my looks, unlike you.” 

“Stan is right, you are a brat.” 

She scoffed. “Whatever. Are you certain this mystic amulet thing even exists?” 

Digging the shovel into the ground again, Mason tossed away another mound of dirt. “Positive. The journal suggests it should be buried not far from here.” 

Mabel rolled her eyes. “I still can’t believe that you’re listening to some dumb book. But I suppose you can do whatever you want if it means I’ll be cutting you in half next show. Don’t worry, I’ll feed your entrails to Waddles.” 

He tried to wipe the rain from his face, but it did no good. “And when I find this mystic amulet I’ll use it to levitate you off the floating cliffs.” 

Something rustled in the bushes behind the twins, jerking around the branches and crunching sticks. Mabel jerked around, “What was that?” 

Mason stopped, raising his shovel off the ground. “Beats me.” The he chuckled, “Maybe it’s that guy in the hoodie who keeps snatching girls. But yet again, I don’t know what on earth he would want with a bitch like you.” 

Mabel sneered at him and straightened out her shoulders as if to appear more prim and proper. “Please. I’m pretty, talented, and funny. I’m the whole package. I’d kidnap me if I was given the chance.” 

A pair of hands reached out for her waist, fingers nearly wiggling with anticipation. Mason gasped and raised the shovel over his head. “Mabel! Look out!” He brought it down in a clean arc, bashing it against the hands of the perpetrator. The shovel sliced down with a ching, as Mabel spun out of his way. They peered down at the ground. In the mud, sat a pair of hands, stiff and unmoving. 

Mabel sucked in her breath, “Oh my God. You chopped off his hands.” Mason knelt down beside them and reached out. “Ew! Don’t touch it!” 

He did, picking it up between his thumb and index finger, moving the hand just enough to see. “There’s no blood,” he muttered. The hands didn’t even look real, they jiggled like a soft plastic, and didn’t even have any bone or muscle protruding from it. “They’re fake.” The bushes rustled again, this time coming from all different directions. 

Mabel took a couple steps back. She grabbed her switchblade and held it out in front of her. “Come out here and face us, you creep.” Mason raised the shovel back up, holding it up like a baseball bat. 

The rustling increased, coming closer and growing louder. The twins held their breath. Something popped out. Something small but human like, with a tall red hat and a puffy brown beard. Mason cocked an eyebrow at it, “Is that a gnome?” More gnomes skittered out of the bushes and eased the twins into a circle.

“Woah, woah,” the gnome held out his hands and took a step back. “No need for weapons! I’m Jeff, I’m the de facto leader of the gnomes.” 

Mason jabbed his shovel at it and scowled at it. “Why were you trying to kidnap my sister?”

The gnome clapped his hands together and rocked back on his heels, “Well uhm you see... “ he looked at Mabel. “It’s just that you’re the most beautiful girl we’ve ever seen, none of these other girls even compare! And we would like to make you our queen!”

Mabel paused and raised an eyebrow. “Queen?” 

Mason rolled his eyes. This was commonplace for his sister. Boys were always lining up outside the Tent after their shows to try to woo her. Sometimes she would play with them, let them praise her and follow her around like little ducks until she grew tired. Other times she would shoo them away. And other times… well there was a reason she liked to carry around a switchblade. At first it was fun to watch her, but after a time, Mason grew tired of her tricks.

“That’s right! We’ve been going around town looking for the girl who would be just right for us, and you’ve got the whole package, honey! You’ve said it yourself. Pretty, talented, and funny.” Jeff got down on one knee and presented a ring made of massive clear crystals that protruded like mountains. “Mabel Gleeful, will you take us in holy matri-gnomey. Blah! Matrimony! I can’t talk today.” The other gnomes stared at her with hungry eyes. 

Mabel backed up beside her brother and held her blade out further, rain rolling off of its tip. “Ew! No! Why would I marry you?” 

Jeff stared up at her. “Because we’re gonna kidnap you.” 

“Huh?”

The gnomes leapt at them, sharp teeth barred. They snarled and screamed, foaming at the mouth. They clutched to Mabel’s legs and tried to scale up her body, making her drop her umbrella. She tried to slash her switchblade at them, but they pinned her arm to her side and pried the knife from her hands. “Ahhh! Mason! Help!” 

He tried to beat off the gnomes one by one, slashing and hacking at them. They had a nasty habit of stacking on top of one another. They clawed and scratched at him. One gnome gripped to his shovel and yanked it out of his hands while two more tripped him backwards down into the hole he dug. Mud splattered across the back of his cape and in his hair. For a moment, his ears rung and his vision flashed white. 

The gnomes lifted Mabel off the ground, latching onto her to prevent her from kicking and squirming too much. “Let me go you little gremlins!” She shrieked. She looked at her brother, a desperate but violent glare in her eyes. “Mason!” Her voice trailed off as they carried her away. 

The rain kept coming down. Mason pushed himself off the ground, the mud slick between his fingers. But there was also a something smooth like a river stone that slipped against his hand. He dug for it in the mud, pulling the thing out of the ground. Two cords dangled from it, caked in in a combination of mud and strands of grass. He wiped away some of the mud from it, revealing a pale blue gem underneath. “The mystic amulet,” he breathed. 

It was real! He so looked forward to rubbing it in Mabel’s face. Or using it to throw her off the cliffs. Either one. 

Not caring about the mud, he tucked it under his collar, like some hideous bolo tie, but if anyone could pull off that look it was him. He wrapped his hand around the gem and put all of his concentration into it. “This just got more interesting,” he said, blue light starting to glow from under his fingers and illuminating the scowl on his face. 

\------

Mabel writhed against the ropes that bound her arms together. “Let go of me you creeps! When I get out of here, you are going to be so dead! I’ve done worse to things much bigger than you!” 

Jeff laughed nervously, “We didn’t realize you were so uhm… violent, sweetheart.” She snarled at at them, rain dripping down her face and smearing her black eye makeup. 

Mason peered from behind the trees. His breath stung in his lungs, cold with rain and mist. He slicked his hair out of his eyes, and gripped the mystic amulet with one hand. Mabel screamed when the gnomes got closer, trying to force one arm free of her restraints. 

“Let me go! I’ll never marry you!” Mabel yelled again, but this time more desperate. There was less spit to her voice and more of a whimper. Then she felt herself lift off the ground. 

The air around her swirled like a cloud of pale blue light, though it had no weight or texture to it to suggest what it actually was. She was just floating. The ropes unwound themselves from her arms and legs, dropping to the ground like limp laundry. Mason stepped out from behind the trees, face illuminated in the pale glow of the mystic amulet. The mud had drooled off his face, and smeared into his blue shirt. He bared his teeth in a sneer, his eyes literally blazing with the same blue light as the mystic amulet. “The only one who messes with my sister is me!” He raised one hand in the air and slashed it forward, sending the gnomes spiraling back into the forest, knocking against trees or into bushes. 

“Mason?” Mabel asked, as he lowered her down to her feet. 

“Looks like I’m the winner of our bet.” He reached into his back pocket and held out a thin curve of silver to her. “I found your switchblade. Now can you do some work for once and help me teach these gnomes a lesson about messing with the gleeful twins?” 

Some of the gnomes staggered to their feet, just in time to see Mabel switch open her blade, the slice of her mouth caught in the reflection of the blade. “Gladly.” Mason raised his hand again, commanding the gnomes up into the air as Mabel poised the blade in her fingers. 

Jeff squirmed in the pull of the mystic amulets power and Mabel moved the silver blade closer to him. “Wait! We’re sorry, please we’ll do anything!” 

“Anything?” she smirked. 

“Yes!” 

The twins shared a glance, as if they could read each other’s minds. Mabel flicked the blade back down. “Hmmm. Well, I would be lying if I said being a queen wasn’t appealing. How about this? I won’t chop you up into little pieces and feed you to my pet pig if you follow my every command. I’ll be your queen, but you aren’t allowed to touch me. No. You aren’t allowed to even look at me. Deal?” 

Mason squeezed the amulet, making Jeff contort and suffocate under its power. “Yes! Yes!” 

The other gnomes squirmed and cried. “Queen! Queen!” 

“Good. Then you’re free to go,” she said, as if now suddenly disinterested in the whole ordeal. Mason let go of the amulet, dropping all the gnomes to the ground. 

“Yes, your Majesty!” Jeff cried as he and the other gnomes scampered back off into the woods.

The twins rocked back on their heels and kept their eyes trained on the forest rather than each other. “I thought you wouldn't come,” Mabel muttered. 

Mason nearly jumped back. “What? Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Because we hate each other. We're always fighting. I threatened you with a knife earlier today… and yesterday… and the day before.” She frowned and looked away from him, twirling her hair around one finger. 

“You're my sister, Mabel. I don't hate you. You piss me off to no end, but I'm not gonna let you get abducted by gnomes.” She lunged at him without hesitation, both of her arms squeezing around his chest and back. Her wet hair clung to his neck as she tucked her head against his shoulder. He hugged her back, the wet cloth of the clothes like thin paper against her skin. 

Mason pursed his lips and then grinned, “You know… this could work for us.” 

“What?” 

“Getting along.” He broke the hug, pulling her away by the shoulders. “Think about it. If we work together, who knows what we could be capable of. I mean,” he dragged his fingers down the spirals of her wet hair. “There is no one more diabolical than you, sister. We could make this sibling bond part of our act. We work so well together.” 

She gave him a sly smile, and draped herself on the shoulder. “I think you’re onto something, dear brother.” 

“No one will suspect that the two adoring twins could ever want to take over the town. We can harness its magical properties and become masters of this universe. This mystic amulet is only the beginning.” Lightning crashed behind them, as if ironically on cue. “And there isn’t anyone you can stop us.” 


End file.
